


Recast Me, Burn Me Clean

by spirantization



Series: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea [5]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 03, Relationship Negotiation, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirantization/pseuds/spirantization
Summary: Sometimes the only obstacles left are the ones you put up yourself, and the only thing left for Chloe to do is put on a red dress and seduce the devil.[Post-Season 3. Series COMPLETE.]





	Recast Me, Burn Me Clean

**Author's Note:**

> i. This is the fifth and final instalment of this series. THANK YOU to everyone who read and engaged along the way! I hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write.
> 
> ii. Come swing by tumblr @spirantization and drop me a line!
> 
> iii. The title is from "Good Grief" by Dessa.

When Chloe awoke the morning after the shooting, the sun was coming through her blinds. She blinked slowly, taking the time to come to herself fully.

She was alone. The other side of the bed was rumpled and cold.

Her heart clenched a little, and she immediately pacified herself. There were any number of perfectly reasonable explanations for why Lucifer wasn’t here when she woke up. Maybe he was in the shower. Maybe he was making her breakfast, like he’d promised he’d do. Maybe he was — driving the car around the block. Or the country. Or something.

This was ridiculous. She extricated herself from her bed and moved to the bathroom. Coming out, she pulled on clothes that were slung over the back of her chair — they still smelled fine and didn’t look too wrinkled when she shook them out — and stumbled down the stairs. She paused before she came down the last step, peering around the corner into the kitchen.

Lucifer was there, dressed in a fresh suit. He could have gone home to change, although she wouldn’t put it past him to have an emergency suit stashed in one of her closets somewhere. He was standing in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand. Trixie sat on a stool opposite him.

“Can you do shapes?” Trixie was asking.

“Don’t be absurd,” said Lucifer. “Of course I can make shapes.”

“Can you make stars?” Trixie asked.

“I am excellent at stars,” he said. “I assume you want a pentagram pancake, and not for me to set fire to hydrogen and helium?”

Trixie giggled, and Chloe decided to make her presence known. She stepped out fully into the kitchen. “Mom!” Trixie shouted, beckoning her over. “Lucifer’s making me pancakes!”

“I haven’t forgotten about your omelette, Detective,” Lucifer said, looking over at her. “I didn’t know when you’d wake up and I didn’t want it to be cold. And then your demanding offspring insisted I feed her as well.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” she said, something warm and fuzzy blooming in her chest at the scene she had wandered into. “We’ll have to invite him over more often,” she whispered to Trixie, who laughed again and turned her full attention back to Lucifer, who had found a squeeze bottle somewhere and was drawing pancake batter in the pan in the shape of little stars — although, they did also happen to look suspiciously like reversed pentagrams. Leaving them in the pan to cook, he turned his attention to Chloe.

“Any preference for your omelette, Detective?” he asked. “The chef is taking requests this morning.”

She smiled. “Surprise me.”

“Very well.” He wielded the largest knife in her block with deadly precision, beginning to chop mushrooms, bell peppers, and cheese. He paused briefly to flip Trixie’s pancakes, then cracked three eggs into a bowl and began to whisk them together.

Breakfast generally wasn’t a big production in the Decker household; usually some cereal or eggs and toast, or whatever could be whipped up in a few minutes time. This was a whole production on just a normal day of the week.

“Here,” said Lucifer, plunking down the pancakes in front of Trixie, along with a glass bottle of real maple syrup that Chloe _definitely_ didn’t buy. Trixie dove in with an enthusiastic ‘thanks!’, coating her pancakes with the maple syrup. Chloe’s omelette followed a few minutes later, fluffy and delicious-looking and with actual garnish on the plate. “Bon appétit.”

“These are way better than any of mom’s pancakes,” Trixie announced. She looked sideways at her mother. “Sorry, mommy.”

“Little weasel,” Chloe said, dragging her fingers across her daughter’s side. Trixie giggled and leaned away, grinning. She took a bite of her own omelette. “But I think I agree with you. Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Thank you, Lucifer!” Trixie parroted, her mouth full.

Lucifer shifted and cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, well,” he said. “I suppose I should make one for myself. See what all the fuss is about.” He turned back to the cutting board and busied himself with chopping once more.

“You almost done, Trixie babe?” Chloe asked. “It’s just about time to head for the bus.”

Trixie swirled the last of her pancakes through the maple syrup and jammed the whole thing in her mouth. She said something unintelligible and ran off to her bedroom.

“Beastly manners,” Lucifer remarked, swapping Trixie’s plate for his own, a fresh omelette on top, and coming around to sit beside her.

Trixie ran back out of her room, backpack in hand. “Okay, I love you mom, bye!” she shouted, racing towards the door.

“No hug?” Chloe called after her, standing up to receive an armful. She kissed the top of her head and gave her a tight squeeze. “Have fun today. I love you.”

“I will! Love you!” Trixie said. “Bye Lucifer!”

“Yes, goodbye, child,” he said, remaining steadfastly in place.

Chloe sighed happily, sitting back down beside Lucifer. “I could get used to this,” she said.

“What, having an on-call chef?” he said.

She nudged him gently. “No, just having you around. You’re welcome, you know.”

“Am I?” he said, staring down at his plate.

“Of course. You know, since we’re together now and all that,” Chloe said. She cleared her throat.

Lucifer didn’t look up. “We are?”

There was a heavy weight growing in her stomach. “I thought we said — last night, I said that my feelings for you haven’t changed. And then you kissed me, and —” She shut up, feeling ridiculous. In the moment it had felt so clear, like a declaration of the emotions that had been building up between them for so long. Maybe Lucifer hadn’t felt that at all.

“Yes, those things happened,” he said airily, cutting into his omelette and avoiding her gaze. “But you had just been shot at and were practically delirious with exhaustion. I assume that you’ve come to your senses now that you’re properly awake, so I wasn’t going to bring it up.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I was giving you an out, as they say.”

The dread turned to sorrow in her gut; not pity, but an intense sadness for the mile-high walls he’d built around his heart.

“I don’t need an out,” she told him softly, determined not to look away. “I want to be with you.”

His casual demeanour turned suddenly to suspicion. He squinted at her. “You do remember who you’re talking to, correct?” he said. “Did you hit your head? Did you get a concussion yesterday and lose all your memories of the past few months? Who am I? Who’s the president?” He reached out to prod at her head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” she snapped, fending off his prying hand. Then she took a deep breath. “You’re Lucifer. _The devil_. I remember everything perfectly fine, and I know who you are.”

“And you’re so certain you know _exactly_ who I am, do you?”

Chloe considered her response carefully. She wasn’t oblivious. She knew what he was doing: lashing out, testing her, trying to protect himself, trying to see how far he could push her before she decided he wasn’t worth it and tossed him out. Even though she knew what he was doing, it didn’t mean it stung any less. She couldn’t undo eons of distrust and built-in protective instincts in a single day, but she could at least start. She took a breath.

“Can you show me your devil face again?”

Her request snapped him out of it and he sat up straight. “What?” he said, nonplussed.

“The first time I was so shocked — I wasn’t expecting it, and seeing you just opened the floodgates of learning about all the things that are real. And yesterday, with our perp, it just took me off guard.” She swallowed. “But this is who you are, and I want to know all of you. Understand all of you.”

“It’s a punishment, not a party trick,” Lucifer countered sharply.

“I know,” she said, gripping his arm briefly. She didn’t ask whether it was his punishment or whether it was a punishment for others; she suspected the answer was a bit of both. “I just want to see this other side of you sometime when it’s not a shock for either of us. And then the next time it happens, it won’t be such a surprise.”

He considered this for a moment, then nodded stiffly. He stood up from the stool and stepped back slightly, giving her some space. “Very well,” he said, and in the blink of an eye, the devil was in her kitchen.

The first time had been such a shock, and the second time too brief, that she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. She let out a breath. His skin was red; it looked raw, burnt, and flayed. Scars littered his skin. She met his eyes that burned with an intense red flame.

“Can I —?” she brought her hand up to his face slowly.

He eyed her hand uncertainly, as if he couldn’t imagine anyone doing what she was asking to do. And then he nodded, and her hand made contact with his cheek. It took her a moment to register exactly how it felt, and to her surprise it was just… skin. It didn’t feel any different from his other face, not really. There were bumps and ridges, but they didn’t feel alien in the same way the rest of him didn’t. She swiped her thumb across his cheek and he made a low noise in his throat.

“Does it hurt?” she asked and dropped her hand away, worried she may have hurt him somehow.

Just as suddenly as the change had come, it was gone. The devil was still there, but he looked as she’d come to know him. “No,” Lucifer said. “It’s my true face. It doesn’t cause me pain.”

“Is this —” she made a sweeping motion towards him. “A disguise? Or — glamour?”

He scoffed. “You wouldn’t ask a werewolf whether her human skin or her wolf skin was her true form, would you? Rhetorical, of course. Werewolves don’t exist.”

“You’re the one who keeps calling it your ‘true face’,” said Chloe. “What else am I supposed to think?”

Lucifer tossed his head regally. “My devil face is a manifestation of all the qualities that make me a monster. I am the devil, and therefore my devil face is my true face.”

“You’re not a monster,” she told him firmly. “Maybe that’s what I was trying to tell you, all those times that I denied you were the devil — I don’t see you as a monster. And if you think that your devil face is monstrous, and that your true self is a monster, then I think you’re wrong.”

He blew out a breath. “There’s just no arguing with you, is there? You’re rather stubborn.”

“Damn right,” she said. He huffed out what she decided was a laugh. “I will make myself very clear, then. I want to be with you. I want us to be together, as in a committed, romantic relationship.” She caught his hand and held it in hers. “Is that something that you want, too?”

She saw him swallow. “Chloe,” he said. It sounded as though it broke him to say it. “Of course I want that.” She stepped into his space and hugged him; his arms came up and encircled her.

“That’s that then,” she said.

“What?” he said. “Just like that?”

“Yep,” she said, snuggling against his chest. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Gladly,” he said softly.

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. Happiness bubbled up inside her. “The first thing we should do now that we’re officially together,” she said, “is go to work. We’re gonna be late.”

“What?” He blinked. “Now?”

“It’s like 8:30 in the morning,” she said. “There’s probably a crime scene for us to go to.”

“Aren’t we supposed to go and have sex now?” He looked around in confusion. “I feel like we’ve missed a step. We got together and skipped right over the honeymoon period and went right to domesticity. We had a morning after without all the wild sex.”

“Well, when have we ever done things the right way?” she asked, grinning. The idea was tempting — damn if he didn’t look good in a suit, and they were _together_ together — but it was best to wait. “Besides, it’ll be fun. We’ll build the anticipation.

“We’re edging. Got it.” He nodded decisively before she could argue with what he’d said, and then distracted her by tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Besides,” he said, his voice dipping lower, dark and sweet. “I’ll want to take my time with you.”

She didn’t even try to suppress the shudder that ran through her at the idea. Oh yes, this was going to _definitely_ be worth the wait.

* * *

Fortune favours the brave, Chloe, she told herself firmly, buckling herself into the car and driving away from the crime scene. You want to be with the devil? You got it. Now do something about it.

Which was easier said than done. Lucifer was sitting in the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio, and appeared wholly unperturbed. She made a face as a familiar song filtered through the speakers and slapped the power button.

“I can’t even listen to the radio anymore,” Chloe said. “Half the songs are about the devil. It makes my drive to work very distracting.”

“I can’t help it that I’m so altogether fabulous that people are inspired to write songs about me,” Lucifer sniffed, tossing his head dramatically. “Don’t be jealous, darling.”

It was so typically over-dramatic that the next part came easily. “We should go on a date,” she announced.

There were a few beats of silence from the passenger seat. “A date?” Lucifer said. It was as if he’d never heard the word before.

“When we wrap up this case and have free time again, or you know, something,” she tried and failed to say casually. She restrained herself from shrugging her shoulders any further.

Lucifer was grinning. “I love it,” he said. “Do I pick you up from your house? Do I give you flowers? Does your mother tell me to have you home by ten?”

“That’s not how dating works,” she said. “I’m thirty-six, not sixteen.”

“I know how dating works, Detective,” he said scornfully. “I’ve _seen_ movies. Can we make out in the back row of a cinema?”

“I thought it might be nice to go somewhere where it’s just us,” she said. “A picnic. Or something.”

“Can we make out in a park next to a picnic basket?”

Chloe smiled. “Yeah, okay.” Who was she kidding? She would _love_ to make out with him in a park next to a picnic basket.

“Right,” he said. “Excellent. We’ll have a date once we wrap up this case. So how does this work? You asked me out, so you plan the whole event, correct?”

“It doesn’t have to work like that,” she started, and then saw great potential for over-the-top Luciferness looming in her future. She amended. “But I can plan the first date.”

“And then after the third date, we have sex, correct?”

She had to concentrate very hard on the road and not swerving into the next lane. “What movies are you _watching_?”

“All of them! This is a clearly established human tradition. I’m only trying to follow the rules you lot have set up.”

“We don’t have to have sex after the third date,” she said. “We can have sex after the tenth date. Or the first date. Or before the first date. There’s no rule book.”

“What?” he said, outraged. “There are _literally_ hundreds of dating rule books!” He sighed. “I can’t believe I’m dating someone who doesn’t have a clue what they’re doing.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping away with determination.

Chloe shook her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to wipe the grin off her face. So what if he didn’t understand the mechanics of dating. So what if he appeared to have gotten most of his knowledge from movies. They were _together_ , they were going to go on a _date_ , and it was going to be _awesome_.

* * *

Less awesome was Lucifer’s apparent hardwired propensity for oversharing, to their main suspect, Tracy Shoemaker, in a recorded interrogation in a police precinct, no less.

“And what is it that you desire?” Lucifer asked her, leaning forward over the table.

“I just want…” Tracy whispered.

“Yes?” he prompted, leaning in even further.

“I just want to have an orgasm,” she bit out. She looked equal measures shocked and relieved, which wasn’t uncommon whenever Lucifer worked his mojo.

“Oh,” said Chloe, for lack of anything better to say. It wasn’t the most outlandish thing that someone had said under Lucifer’s influence, but it definitely wasn’t something she heard on a daily basis. And who was she kidding? She could relate.

“Well that’s easy enough,” said Lucifer, settling back in his chair with an easy, satisfied smirk. “Don’t you have a vibrator? I can recommend several that would be satisfactory in getting the job done.” He shot Chloe a look that she attempted to ignore.

“I have vibrators,” Tracy said. Chloe couldn’t recall anyone ever sounding so miserable about that fact. “They just don’t work. Nothing has ever worked.”

“You mean —” Lucifer began, drawing back, a hand to his chest, aghast.

“I’ve never had an orgasm before,” she said, wringing her hands. “I’ve tried and I just can’t. You have no idea how frustrating it is —”

“That is,” Lucifer started, “absolutely awful! I mean, just appalling!” His hands were on the table as if he were about to push himself to his feet and storm off to solve the problem.

“Lucifer, seriously,” chided Chloe. “I mean, it’s really a shame,” she added to Tracy.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but this is absolutely shocking,” he told her. Turning back to Tracy, he continued. “Normally, I would invite you back to my place and work you over for hours until you came so many times you forgot your name —”

“Yes, please,” Tracy said quickly, her eyes wide. Chloe knew that look; she’d seen it on literally hundreds of women over the years who had thrown themselves at Lucifer’s very willing person. Something uncomfortably like jealousy bubbled in her stomach. They hadn’t exactly gotten around to defining the boundaries of their relationship.

“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he continued on as if Tracy hadn’t spoken. “I’ve just entered into a monogamous relationship. It’s a bit of a first for me. We haven’t even had sex yet. I was all for it, but this one was all ‘No, we have to go to work, it’s 8am’.” He raised his hands as if to say _we’ve all been there, right?_

“Stop talking,” Chloe hissed.

He leaned back in his chair and turned his head towards her. “I’m explaining the dynamics of our relationship,” he said not at all quietly.

“Yes, that’s the problem,” she told him.

“My point is,” he said, turning back to Tracy. “I apologize, but I can’t have sex with you and give you earth-shattering orgasms. Nothing to be done about it. How do you feel about leather?” he added, taking out his phone.

“What?” said Tracy, blinking. “It’s… okay?”

“Good enough,” said Lucifer. “I’ve got a friend who can help you out, if you like.” Chloe could see the message he was typing out for Maze: 

_Woman at the precinct. Never had an orgasm. Up for a challenge?_

“Lucifer,” said Chloe, trying to speak calmly. “Before you go pimping her out to Maze, would you care to remember that she is a murder suspect? In our murder investigation?” She waved her hand around them in case he’d forgotten where they were.

“I might bash my boyfriend’s head in too if he didn’t give me any orgasms.” He paused, and typed out another message to Maze: 

_Possibly killed someone and might go to prison. Tick tock!_

“Continue, please.”

She sighed and carried on, trying to ignore Maze’s response in the form of a string of explicit emojis.

Chloe didn’t want to start off their relationship with a fight, but setting some ground rules was clearly necessary.

“Lucifer,” she said as they stepped out of the room, holding onto his arm. “About what happened in there…”

“Hmm?” He turned towards her.

“It was inappropriate,” she said. “We don’t have to divulge every single detail of our relationship to other people. And I would prefer it if we kept the more, um, _intimate_ details entirely between us.”

“I completely agree,” he said.

She blinked. “You do?” She had to admit, she wasn’t expecting him to agree so quickly.

“It _was_ inappropriate,” he said. “We’ve only been together for three hours, and our prime suspect is a woman who’s never had an orgasm before? I mean, clearly my Father is aware of our new relationship status and has decided to test my commitment.” He looked up at the ceiling in disgust and shook his head.

Chloe closed her eyes. She didn’t know whether he was being paranoid or not, which sort of just made her paranoid as well. When she reopened her eyes, she caught his gaze and considered her words. “Does it change anything if He is?”

Lucifer blinked. “What?”

“Let’s say your Father has nothing better to do with His time than to test our relationship, and He orchestrated everything we’ve seen this morning. Does it change anything about our relationship? Have you changed your mind about wanting to do this? Changed your mind about us?”

His eyes softened. “No,” he said.

“Alright then,” she said, clearing her throat. She wanted to step into his arms, unbutton his shirt, slide her lips across his collarbones, and — other things that were probably not appropriate for work. “Let’s, uh, carry on then.” She nearly tripped over her feet as she turned towards the conference room. “But seriously — there’s no need to tell every person we meet about the details of our relationship.”

“Yes, alright, Detective,” he acquiesced. “Not a word shall I speak on the subject.”

“Do you two crazy kids have anything you want to tell me?” said Ella, leering at them as they arrived.

Chloe stopped in her tracks. “You heard that?”

“Oh baby, everybody heard that,” said Ella. “I think Jacobson won the pool.”

“What’s this?” Lucifer said, looking between them. “What’s going on?”

“Everyone heard you talking about our relationship,” Chloe said. “Now they’ll be gossiping about us for ages. You couldn’t keep it quiet for a single day?”

“They’ve been betting on when we’d get together?” he said. “And no one told me? I _love_ betting on things!”

“Could we please discuss this case?” said Chloe. “And not our brand new relationship that is not even twenty-four hours old?”

“Right,” said Ella, clearing her throat and diving in. 

They tacked pictures on the wall, going over the evidence, with Lucifer more or less helping, with a bit more emphasis on the less. He wasn’t even trying to be distracting, but he was just — _lounging_ , all long lines and an elegant suit and that magnetic pull that always drew her in. She’d spent so long training herself not to pay attention to him, not to want, and that long-hidden desire was bubbling up from inside of her and she just wanted — well, she just _wanted_. But she couldn’t have him, not right at this moment, so she forced herself to pay attention to her work. It was something she’d gotten good at, after all.

“Would you define yourself as ambitious?” Lucifer asked her after a while.

Chloe looked up from her crime wall and blinked. He was focused intently on his phone. “Maybe? I guess in some ways. I was very motivated to become a detective.”

“I suppose that would make you highly driven, yes?”

“Why are you asking me — sure, yes. Can we focus on the case, now, please?”

“Would you describe us as a ‘power couple’?”

“I would!” Ella chimed in, waving cheerily.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asked, moving around to the other side of the table to see what Lucifer was so focused on.

“It’s a BuzzFeed quiz,” he said. “‘What Kind of Romantic Partner Do You Actually Want?’ I thought it was fitting.”

Chloe had to physically stop herself from groaning.

“I got ‘The Ambitious Type’,” he continued, merciless. “‘You are very attracted to highly driven, successful people, and would like to have a partner who can elevate your status in some way. You have definitely entertained the fantasy of being part of a “power couple”.’ Does that sound like us?”

“Lucifer,” said Chloe. “Please, please, for the last time, _please_ stop doing clickbait quizzes.”

“No, I shan’t,” Lucifer said, concentrating on his phone once more. “‘Tell Us About Your Best Friend And We’ll Tell You If They’re Your Soulmate’? Sounds promising.”

Ella was cackling. “Why are you doing online quizzes?”

“Doctor Linda said that I should figure out what I want out of a relationship,” he said blithely, tapping away.

“And the quizzes are because…?” Ella asked.

“They’re valuable research!” he said. “That’s a yes on the soulmate thing, by the way.”

“Alright,” said Chloe, trying to mute the warmth that was crawling its way through her whole body. “Maybe you can research later and actually do some work now? You know, for the murderer we still have to catch?”

“Fine,” he said, tucking his phone away. “I suppose I can find out our ideal Couple Sleeping Position later. But don’t blame me if we aren’t optimized from the beginning.”

Over his shoulder, Ella mouthed ‘so cute’ and gave her a thumbs up. Chloe bit her lip to keep herself from grinning too hard.

* * *

When their case still hadn’t wrapped up after two weeks, Chloe seriously started to revisit Lucifer’s accusations that God was testing them.

They’d gotten so good at solving murders that sometimes she forgot that they didn’t catch every single killer, that some murders went unsolved. Sometimes there wasn’t enough evidence, or they didn’t find the right people to talk to, or they didn’t ask the right questions, or the trail just went cold. It was a tragedy to leave a murder unsolved and have a killer walk free, but it was the cold reality of the job.

Lucifer was, in the grand scheme of things, unbothered by their unsolved cases. He took it as a personal affront, of course, but it had more to do with the fact that they couldn’t outwit a killer and catch them, and less to do with the idea that there was a killer on the loose somewhere. Chloe had once thought he was being callous, but now she understood another aspect of his perspective: he was confident that whatever justice they escaped receiving in life would catch up to them in death.

But this case he’d been uncharacteristically driven to solve, and was taking it harder than usual that they hadn’t made any real progress. It had taken her a little while to work out why, and when she did she felt like kicking herself: they’d agreed to have a date after they wrapped up this case, and the case was refusing to be wrapped up. She’d inadvertently tied the progression of their relationship to finishing this case. They hadn’t made an explicit deal, but Lucifer seemed to be treating it like one, and wasn’t about to make any move to the contrary. He appeared determined to let her set the pace of her relationship and follow her lead, which was somewhat devastating; he certainly had wants and needs out of this relationship too, and they weren’t being met. She knew that, at the moment, hers certainly weren’t.

Chloe had simple wants, okay? She wanted to catch murderers and be with Lucifer. They hadn’t spent any quality time together, just the two of them, between work, her being there for Trixie, and Lucifer’s responsibilities at Lux. And if she also happened to want to climb him like a tree, then that was her business, wasn’t it? She wasn’t a nun, for goodness sake.

There was never going to be a perfect time when all of her problems melted away, her to-do list was magically completed, and she had a three-day weekend without any interruptions. They were always going to have to juggle other responsibilities and commitments, and they were going to have to make time to work at their relationship, too. 

Maybe it was time to take a page out of Lucifer’s book. If she desired something, she was going to have to chase it down herself and make it happen. And maybe, she thought, making her way over to Dan’s desk, she’d even call in a favour in the process and clear all her other commitments for the weekend.

* * *

The dress was new but the shoes weren’t — fancy red stilettos that mostly languished in the back of her closet because they went with nothing else she owned. But then she’d seen the slinky red dress in a shop window while chasing down another dead end, and it was the exact same shade as her shoes. It was a sign if she’d ever seen one.

Chloe stepped out of the cab and headed up to the front of the line at Lux, packed as it always was on Friday night. She smiled at the bouncer as he automatically stepped aside to let her in. She felt powerful, decked out in devil red and ready to seduce the devil himself.

Said devil, of course, was at the piano. He wasn’t singing, just playing. She didn’t recognize the song, but she loved the way he played: his eyes closed, head tilted up, his long, slender fingers caressing the keys. She could imagine those same fingers trailing down her side and up her thighs and felt her face heat up.

As she stepped closer, Lucifer opened his eyes and zeroed in on her. He froze, the song stopping, everything about him soaking her in. His eyes were dark and beautiful and filled with so much _want_.

“Surprise,” she said, coming to a stop and swiping his glass from atop the piano. She took a sip; whiskey wasn’t her favourite drink, but the stuff that Lucifer drank was so smooth. She couldn’t blame him for always drinking the good stuff. “I heard red was your favourite colour.”

“Well, it bloody is _now_ ,” he said, looking her up and down in a definitely appreciative fashion. “You look simply ravishing. What have I done to deserve the honour of your presence?”

“Nothing,” she said, smiling. “I was tired of waiting for the right moment for us to be together, so I decided to make it happen myself.”

“Well, it lead you here, so I whole-heartedly approve.”

She put the glass back down on top of the piano and held out her hand. “Come dance with me,” she said.

She should probably feel self-conscious about how closely they were pressed together, and where exactly Lucifer’s hands were wandering, but she didn’t. She wanted this, and she could tell that Lucifer was, well, rather _firmly_ on board as well. She shivered as his hand trailed up her spine, searing hot and freezing cold all at once.

“Have you figured out what you want out of a relationship yet?” she asked, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. He shuddered against her and swallowed.

“Just you,” he said. He could melt the sun with his look. “However I can have you.”

“You’ve got me,” she whispered, trailing her fingers along his shoulders. “Do you know what I want out of a relationship?” He made a sound that sounded like a no. She continued. “I want the exact same thing. I want _you_. Everything else we can figure out as we go along.”

He held her just a little bit tighter. “Are you as scared as I am?”

Of course she was. It was terrifying to crack herself open and let him in. But she could do it if he was right there with her. 

“Yes,” she said. “And you know what’s really good for not feeling afraid?”

“What?”

“Sex,” she said promptly.

He threw back his head and laughed. “What about the three date rule?”

“That’s not a thing,” Chloe said. “Besides, even if it was, I figure we’ve got at least three dates under our belt by now, right?”

“Right,” he said, gazing down at her. “Burger and fries.”

“Prom.”

“I made you dinner and told you that you’re a divine miracle.”

“See?” she laughed. “No one can say we’re not good at dating.”

“We didn’t get our picnic though,” he pointed out.

“We just had drinks.”

“And dancing.”

“And you live right upstairs,” she said.

“It’s a very short elevator ride.”

“I’d hate to leave you in that big bed all alone.”

“Then by all means, Detective,” he said, drawing away and holding out his hand in invitation. “Let’s keep each other warm, shall we?”

* * *

They stumbled off the elevator, Lucifer kissing a line down her neck, and in her distraction, lifting her up onto the piano.

“You’ll let me go down on you, won’t you?” he asked her, his eyes hungry, his hands roaming. “Please tell me you will. I can’t stop _thinking_ about it. I’ll make it so good. I _promise_.”

Chloe didn’t know if anyone had ever begged her to go down on her before, but the very thought of it — of Lucifer, head between her thighs as she lay spread out on the bed — was enough to make her moan and clench down on nothing, pulling him in for another heated kiss.

“I think that’s a yes,” Lucifer said, picking her up off the piano. 

“Yes,” she agreed, breathless. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he — rather effortlessly — carried her towards the bedroom. He deposited her at the foot of his bed, his hand drawing a hot line down her side where the edge of her dress met bare skin.

He was pressing kisses along her neck as she kicked off her high heels and attempted to shimmy out of her dress. He pulled back.

“What _are_ you doing?” he said, batting her hands away. “You don’t give someone a present and then unwrap it for them!”

“I was trying to be efficient!” she said defensively.

“ _Efficient_?” he said. “I’ll show you _efficient_.” He grasped the top of her dress with two hands and tore it in half as if it were tissue paper.

“Lucifer!” she heard herself say, although she should really be honest with herself: that was hot.

“You’re not wearing any underwear!” he countered gleefully. Oh, he was thrilled. There’d be no living with him after this. “Is it my birthday?”

“That was a new dress!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he promised. “I’ll buy you a hundred. And I’ll rip those off you, too.” With that, he picked her up and deposited her in the middle of the bed.

He left a trail of kisses in a line from her knee to the apex of her thigh, getting oh so close and then switching to her other side. He reached the top of her thigh again, and then moved to kiss a line across her stomach. She wriggled against him impatiently, curling her hands into his hair and not too far from pushing his head down just a little bit.

“You’re a squirmer,” he said, sounding absolutely delighted about it.

“You’re a tease,” she gasped.

“That’s half the fun, darling,” he said, grinning up at her. “Oh, the fun we can have with restraints.”

“You want to tie me up?” She could get into that, provided it wasn’t anything extreme.

“Only if you return the favour,” he told her. Okay, _that_ she could definitely get on board with. She could just imagine him, hands tied up to the headboard while she took him in her mouth, and then later sunk down on him, made it slow, drew it out, made him beg for it — 

She would have told Lucifer as much, but he chose that moment to duck down and press an open-mouthed kiss against her centre and she lost all possible train of thought.

He lapped at her, exploring her folds, drawing shapes and circles and letters and she couldn’t help but buck against him. His tongue travelled up to circle her clit. She gasped, but the next moment his lips had travelled back down to her opening and his tongue was slipping inside her. 

She jerked against him; his hands moved down to push lightly against her thighs, spreading her even wider. His tongue circled her clit again, and his lips followed, sucking at her gently. When was the last time someone had done this for her? She couldn’t remember, and she couldn’t think properly anyway, not when Lucifer was holding her open and pressing sucking kisses against her.

“Please,” she begged. She wasn’t above it. “I want you inside me.”

“Don’t spoil my fun so early,” he said. “You taste marvellous. Aren’t you enjoying yourself, darling?” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, just started in on her again, and she forgot everything she was going to say.

She could feel that delicious pleasure building and building. He latched onto her clit and hummed. She cried out wordlessly as she tipped over the edge, feeling that heat spreading throughout her. He worked her through it until the last wave of her orgasm faded and he pulled away, shucking the rest of his clothes and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

He climbed back onto the bed and came down beside her. He was looking very pleased with himself and Chloe figured he deserved to, just this once. She pulled him in for a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself in his mouth.

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked.

Her brain was completely offline, but she thought she made a sound resembling a yes.

“I want to do that to you every day,” he continued between kisses. “I’m never going to get anything done. Except you, of course.”

“I’m going to retire my vibe,” she panted, letting out a breathless laugh.

“Don’t do that,” he said, appalled. “Think of all the fun we could have with it together. Bring it with you next time. What’s it look like? Tell me everything.”

She laughed against his mouth, and reached down to grasp him where she could feel him, a hard line against her thigh. He groaned as she dragged his hand along his length; he was long and thick, hot and silky smooth. She was all warmed up and she definitely wanted him inside her.

“It’s just a little black egg vibe,” she said. “Nothing exciting.”

“I disagree,” he said, his eyes fluttered as her fingers traced the length of him. “Thinking about you in your bed at night with a vibrator is _very_ exciting.” He bucked against her, as if proving his point.

“I don’t use it very often,” she said. “But it’s been a lonely couple of weeks.” She gave him another stroke and he moaned against her.

“Let’s fix that, shall we?” he said. “How do you want me, darling? Anything you desire.”

There was no way that Lucifer was going to be anything but delighted to hear about her fantasies, so she just went for it. “I had a dream once,” she said.

“How wonderful,” he rumbled, proving her right. “You must tell me everything.”

“You had, uh, horns.” She placed her thumb under the head of his cock.

“You have quite the fixation,” he gasped into her mouth. “I’m so sorry to disappoint. I hope my existing anatomy will be sufficiently pleasurable.” He thrust a little against her hand as she swept her thumb across the head of his cock.

“They made for really good handles while I was riding you,” she told him.

He shuddered against her and flipped them so she was lying on top of him. She sat up and bit her lip. “Protection?” she asked. “I’m on the pill, but I haven’t been tested in a long time.” She braced herself against his chest. “Have you been tested recently?”

He shook his head. “I always use condoms, but I can’t actually contract or transmit human illnesses or diseases.” Lucifer reached over to his beside table and opened a drawer to reveal a cornucopia of condoms and lube. “Ribbed? Glow in the dark? French tickler?”

She peered into the drawer. “I don’t even know what a French tickler is,” she said. “Don’t you just have regular ones?”

He tsked and reached into a box and pulled out a foil packet. “I should use one,” he said, holding it out for her. “And then you’d eat your words. Or one of my pillows.”

Chloe snorted and ripped open the packet and pulled out the condom. “Maybe next time,” she said, rolling it down his length and giving him a few extra strokes just for good measure.

“Oh, that’s novel,” he said, his head thrown back. “Already planning for next time. No need to blow through all our firsts in one night. Wait a little. Build the anticipation.” One of his hands reached up to cup one of her breasts, his thumb rubbing circles against her nipple.

Instead of answering, she raised herself up and positioned his at her entrance, then slowly started to sink down. Lucifer was panting beneath her, one hand at her chest and the other against her hip, helping her control her descent. She was wonderfully wet, but it had been a while and he wasn’t exactly small.

Her thighs were shaking a little by the time she was seated fully, from the stretch and adrenaline of finally having him inside her. She was still, letting herself adjust. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Lucifer’s thumb drawing circles, offering a lovely sensation that sent ripples down to her centre.

She bounced experimentally and Lucifer groaned under her. “You’re going to kill me,” he panted. “What a way to go. You feel _amazing_.”

She braced her hands against his chest and started up a rhythm, mostly stuttering and uneven at first, pulling herself almost off his cock and sinking back down. Something snagged pleasurably on the way back down, sending a little sing through her. “Oh,” she gasped, grinding down and hitching her hips in little figure eights, chasing that sensation, teasing herself with it.

He surged up to meet her and drew her into a kiss. She gasped as the angle of him within her changed, and she braced herself against his shoulders, finding a new point of leverage. His hands gripped her her thighs, supporting her rhythm as she ground against him.

She broke away from his mouth and threw her head back; Lucifer latched on to one of her nipples with his talented mouth instead. She gasped and sped up her motion.

He let go and looked at her for a moment. “Beautiful,” he said, reverent, diving down to pay attention to the other. It sent little frissons of pleasure through her, adding to the delicious friction already singing through her.

Lucifer reached between them and pressed his thumb against her clit. She shuddered against him, feeling nearly overwhelmed. If she felt anything else she was going to fly into a million pieces. She tugged on the short hairs at the nape of his neck and brought his lips back up to meet hers.

“’S so good,” she gasped. “Is it — do you feel good?”

“Yes,” he told her, panting into her mouth. “Chloe. _Chloe_. You feel _exquisite_.”

Then he started rubbing and she cried out, breaking away from his mouth. She could feel her climax building, that heat settling in her stomach. She didn’t want it to end; she wanted to hover there, holding onto this feeling, feeling so close to him, for as long as she could.

All of his attention was zeroed in on her, his eyes focused on her face and his thumb rubbing little circles against her. His hair was sticking up wildly from where her hands had been grasping at it. She’d never felt like this before; so powerful, so free, so liberated.

Her rhythm stuttered once more, getting choppy as she drew nearer and nearer to her climax. It broke over her with Lucifer’s hand against her and his eyes intent on her. She clung to him, hitching her hips to chase each wave of pleasure and slowing herself down as the waves faded out. She slumped against him, sensation still fizzling throughout her. His hand was tangled in her hair, and he placed small little kisses against her shoulder. It was only when she shifted that she noticed he was still hard inside her.

“You didn’t come,” she said faintly. That wouldn’t do, not at all. She bounced a little, half-trying to restart her rhythm.

Lucifer made a choked sound and flipped them so that she was lying on her back with him braced between her legs, still inside her. He kissed her hungrily.

“I couldn’t concentrate on anything but you,” he said. “Watching you take what you desire? This whole evening, you coming here — your desire, your want. You are _stunning_. How could I look away?”

Her only response was to kiss him back, moaning as he started making little thrusts up into her, as if he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t hold back any longer. Even after her second orgasm, it felt so good even where she was still a little sensitive.

“You can come again, can’t you?” he said, looking down at her intently. “I could watch you come all night. It’s addictive.” He lengthened his thrusts, fucking into her with long, smooth strokes. She wrapped her legs around his waist and that felt even better, driving him deeper. She clung to him, wanting to feel every inch of him as she met his thrusts.

He hummed, and slid his hand down to grasp one of her knees. “How flexible are you?” he asked, and, without waiting for an answer, pushed her leg up towards her chest and hooked it over his shoulder.

She made a vague noise of complaint. “I don’t think I — oh, _holy_ —,” she broke off as he hit _something_ inside her that lit up her entire body. Was that her G spot? She was pretty sure that was her G spot, but who cared because it felt _amazing_ and he could just keep doing that.

“There it is,” Lucifer said smugly, and she didn’t even care because he was hitting that spot over and over and her orgasm was spreading throughout her entire body.

“Lucifer,” she gasped, clenching around him.

He groaned, his hips snapping forward a few more times as he came, and then was still. He drew her leg down off his shoulders and back around his waist, laying down gently on top of her, panting against her neck. His weight felt wonderful, pressing her down into the bed. She could do nothing but lie there bonelessly, pressing against every inch of him she could reach, drawing him against her as close as he could go.

After a moment he shifted to the side, his cock slipping out of her. She made a sound of protest, but he kissed her softly before moving away to deal with the condom. She starfished out on the bed, enjoying the stretch after being twisted up into a pretzel.

“This is a beautiful sight,” said Lucifer, lounging down beside her once again and kissing her shoulder. “You, in my bed. Care for another round? I’m sure I could muster up the energy to eat you out again in just a minute. Really, it would be my pleasure.”

She choked out a laugh. “I don’t think I can move my legs,” she said.

“Just as well,” he said. “You’ll have to stay in bed with me all weekend.” He kissed her collarbone and lay his head down on her chest. Chloe ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the soft feel of it.

“You don’t have to work too hard to convince me to do that,” she said. It seemed as though he was listening to her heart beating. 

They lay still for several minutes, just absorbing the feeling of being together and basking in the afterglow. Eventually, Lucifer lifted his head and shifted so he could pull her into his arms.

“The things we’ll do,” he murmured. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little kinks.”

“I don’t really have any kinks,” she said. “I’m pretty vanilla.”

“Nonsense,” he argued. “Everyone’s got something. You’ve got several things.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, skeptical. The kinkiest thing she’d ever done was probably that time she wore a blindfold; she couldn’t even imagine the sorts of things that Lucifer considered to be adventurous. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his warmth enveloping her.

“You’ll see,” he insisted. “We’ll be great together.”

Of course, she thought as she slid towards sleep. They already were.

* * *

Sunday broke bright and sunny — and Chloe was definitely going to have to wake up in Lucifer’s bed more often, because _damn_ , that was one hell of a view. But real life was going to come creeping back in eventually, and she may as well meet it head on.

“You’re sure I can’t tempt you to stay?” Lucifer said, kissing behind her ear. She shivered.

“I’m absolutely sure you could,” she said. “But I can’t stay in bed all day. Again.”

“But just think of how much fun we had yesterday,” he countered, nosing at her neck. That was true — he’d been right about the French tickler, which had been a lot of fun to try out — but there were other things for her to take care of.

She pushed him away, grinning. “Not today, Satan.”

“Hmm. Tomorrow?”

“I will definitely see you at work tomorrow.”

“What is it that you have to do that’s better than me?” he asked, gesturing to himself. He made a _very_ good point.

“I have a few errands to run,” she said, momentarily distracted by his abs. “Bank, supermarket, dry cleaners, that sort of thing.”

He frowned as if she’d said something utterly perplexing. “I think I want to go grocery shopping with you,” Lucifer said. He looked confused, then zeroed in on her. “What have you done to me?”

“I haven’t done anything,” she said, spreading her hands innocently.

“You’re probably going to go to Costco,” he said. “Do you know how many people are torturing themselves with Costco runs in Hell at this very moment? Every time they enter they have to sign up for a membership card, every day there is Saturday, and every time they leave they realize they’ve forgotten something.”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” she said. “It’s not very interesting, it’s just boring stuff that needs to get done. But you’re welcome to join me.”

“That’s just it,” he said. “It’s _boring_. And I want to go with you anyway.” He sounded completely affronted at the very idea. “Maybe I’m just trying to save you from buying bulk packages of frozen hamburgers. That’s what it is.”

She smiled. “Of course. Come on. You can talk me out of getting orange juice from concentrate, too.”

He made a pained noise. 

She stepped off the bed and froze. “I just realized I have no underwear, no clothes, and the only thing I came here with you ripped in half.” She located her red dress in the corner of the bedroom and picked it up. It was ripped all the way down the front. “Do you have a belt? I could make it a wrap dress and do my Walk of Shame that way.”

Lucifer stood up and snatched the dress out of her hands. “I’m sure you meant Stride of Pride, and it’s not necessary. I have clothes you can wear. I’m not letting you walk out of here in a ripped dress.”

She rolled her eyes, but let him have it. She entered his wardrobe, which was frankly the most extravagant thing she’d ever witnessed, and he opened a closet with flourish. “Here,” he announced with pride.

Chloe tugged on the sleeve of one of the shirts. “Lucifer,” she said, looking at the contents of his closest. “Are these _my_ — did you go into my closet and _steal my clothes_?”

“I would never,” he said. She pointed at the shirt she was holding: she was pretty sure she owned the exact same one. “I’ve seen the extent of your wardrobe,” he explained. “I merely purchased a small selection of items you might wear. Just in case of situations like these.” He shrugged haughtily, his body language at war with his sentiment. “I want you to feel at home here.”

The warm feeling that had been growing steadily in her stomach flared a little brighter. The actual clothes were immaterial, but the thought, the gesture, was immeasurable. She stepped against him and kissed him softly. “Thanks for thinking of me,” she said. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Besides know the truth of who I am, and accept me anyway?” He said. He sounded flippant, but she knew — she could see — the vulnerability beneath the surface.

She reached out and held his hand. “That’s easy. I love you.”

There was an emotion of unease stirring in his eyes. She knew he wasn’t so good at saying how he felt, preferring to let his actions speak for him; everything in his actions and demeanour told her that he loved her. Maybe one day he would feel comfortable saying it, but for now she smiled and squeezed his hand to let him know that everything was okay. She didn’t need to hear it; she knew how he felt about her.

“You don’t have to say it back,” she said. “I just wanted you to know.” He let out a shaky breath and gripped her hand tightly. “I’m going to have a shower,” she said, letting the moment pass. There would be another one. There would be so many more. “Care to join me?”

Lucifer smiled, grasping at the solid foundation she’d offered. “By all means — let’s come in the shower, darling.”

* * *

It was a Tribe night, and Chloe was well on her way to getting drunk.

“I have an important announcement,” she said, raising her nearly empty glass. “Lucifer and I are together, and we have really great sex.”

Her proclamation was met with a chorus of cheers. She stood up on only slightly wobbly legs and made her way to the bar for another pitcher of sangria. She came back to a round of questions.

“I know we’re not supposed to talk about guys on girl’s night,” said Ella. “But you have to give me this one thing. Does he _always_ call you Detective? I mean, it’s cool if you’re into that, but is it like — _Detective_ —” she started making thrusting motions in her seat, accompanied by laughter from Linda and Maze.

“Oh, come on,” Chloe said, straight-faced. “His mouth is way too busy to call me anything.”

“Oh!” Ella yelled, raising her glass and clinking it against hers.

She leaned in a little closer. “And I might be a little into the whole ‘Detective’ thing, anyway. Shh.”

“I knew it!” Linda crowed.

“Oh girl, _get it_ ,” said Ella.

“When are we going to have a threesome?” Maze shouted, gesturing between herself and Chloe and an imaginary Lucifer.

“Oh, wow,” said Linda. Ella snorted half her drink and started to cough.

“We’re not having a threesome,” Chloe told Maze.

“Alright, I get it,” said Maze, nodding sagely. “You want him all to yourself. Can’t say I blame you. I’ll just watch, then.”

Chloe squinted. “We’re not doing that either.”

“What the hell, Decker!” said Maze, slamming her glass down on the table. “I gotta watch you two dance around each other for like three years and now you won’t even let me watch you have sex? What kind of friend are you?”

“Maze, we talked about this,” said Linda. “Remember?”

“Yeah, and I’m a great friend,” said Maze. “I always invite you guys to my orgies. That’s how you know I care.”

“Okay!” said Ella, raising her glass. “To Chloe, for finally wrangling her guy and getting all the great sex —”

“—Amazing sex —” Chloe corrected.

“— _Amazing_ sex she deserves,” Ella finished.

They brought their glasses together along with shouts of ‘cheers!’ and downed their drinks together.

“I’m really happy for you guys,” said Linda, totally sincere but slurring a little.

“Me too,” said Chloe.

* * *

Later, in Lucifer’s penthouse, it felt very important to impress upon him all the good things about their relationship, as new as it was.

“And I really like your sense of humour,” she explained to him, flinging her shirt off. “Sometimes I’m like, ‘No, Chloe, you can’t laugh, there’s a dead body right there’, but I like, appreciate it, you know?”

“Naturally,” he said, lounging on the bed in his robe.

“I told everyone that we’re having great sex,” she said. She lit upon an idea. “We should have great sex right now!” She stumbled out of her pants. She was totally ready for this. Pants were just really hard to take off after a couple of drinks. The underwear was easy, though.

“Hmm,” Lucifer said. “As much as I am _definitely_ enjoying the show, you’ll just fall asleep on me, and somnophilia isn’t really my thing.”

“It could be my thing!” said Chloe. She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she could learn. She’d learned a lot of new things recently, like how good it felt to bring herself off under Lucifer’s heated gaze while he was under strict instructions to keep his hands to himself. “You don’t know! I could love som-whatever.”

He stood up and kissed her shoulder before buttoning her into one of his shirts. “Not when you’re drunk,” he said. “But we can revisit the idea when you’re sober.”

She flopped back onto his bed, and was overcome with the urge to tell him how comfortable his bed was.“Lucifer,” she said. “Your bed is really comfortable. Like, really, really comfortable.”

“It’s even better with you in it,” he said.

“But I don’t want to have a threesome with Maze,” she told him.

“Alright,” he said, stripping her out of her socks. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ve never had a threesome,” she confessed. “Sometimes I don’t even know what I don’t want to do. After I did Hot Tub High School, everyone I tried to date thought I was really experienced and just expected me to be down to do anything. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t like that they all assumed that about me. So I went the total opposite way and just refused to have any casual or adventurous sex or anything, even if maybe I wanted to.”

Lucifer’s hand stroked down her hair. It was nice, comforting. “They didn’t deserve you,” he said. “You deserve to be worshipped.”

She twisted a little to look up at him. “You don’t make me feel like that,” she told him. “You make me feel — free. Like I can just be myself, and that’s okay. And I hope you can be yourself around me, too.”

He kissed her forehead. “You’re the one person I can truly be myself with,” he said. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She hummed to herself, closing her eyes. She didn’t feel really drunk, just pleasantly tipsy. And also like she could go to sleep right there.

There was the sound of a glass being set down on wood, and she opened her eyes as Lucifer’s hands rested on her side. “Sit up for a moment,” he said. “Drink this.”

She did so, but only because leaning against Lucifer instead of the bed was a good idea. “What is it?” she asked.

“Hydrator,” he said. “Water, sugar, salt, and a little bit of lemon juice. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

She downed the glass and lay back down again, hanging on to his sleeve with one hand. “Come sleep with me,” she said.

There was a soft rustling sound as he peeled himself out of his robe and slid into bed beside her. The devil gathered her in his arms and kissed her; and she felt warm, and safe, and loved.

“Goodnight, Chloe,” he whispered.


End file.
